The hall is bursting with dancing bodies, but I have never felt more alone.
It cannot get any worse from here.
Fifteen minutes later, Mariss catches the bride’s bouquet.
Mariss is in a white wedding dress, urging Ramona to catch her bouquet. Ahkai is in a black tuxedo that is three sizes too big, officiating the ceremony on the beach.
“Do you, Vincent Cadogan, take Mariss to be your forever companion? Do you promise to love her, in sickness and in health, as long as you both have breath?”
Daddy is like a broken record. “I do I do I do I do I do I—”
Mariss holds his hand and guides him into the sea, farther and farther, until all that’s left is a red wedding veil floating on top of the water.
I jump up in the bed, panting and covered in sweat. I try to go back to sleep, but my stomach feels hard, as if it’s filled with cement. I stretch and sit at the window, staring at Miss Mo’s house. I wish I had paid more attention to her superstitions instead of dismissing them. I never would have imagined I’d be living with a folklore creature, but if anyone knows how to get rid of a River Mumma, it’s Miss Mo.
Finally, her kitchen window slams open. She’s up! I race over to the house without bothering to wash my face or brush my teeth.
Miss Mo is bustling about in the kitchen, every burner on the stove occupied.
“I gotta finish cook, then collect donations for the picnic, Jo,” Miss Mo announces before I can utter a word, squeezing limes over a bowl of raw chicken.
I forgot about the picnic next weekend. The Fairy Vale Parish Church committee, also known as Miss Mo, voted to have their annual picnic at Brandon’s Beach in the city center.
Ahkai enters the kitchen, smiles at me, and grabs a box of cat chow from on top of the fridge. For the first time I’m not happy to see him. If I bring up the River Mumma, he and Miss Mo will no doubt get into another endless argument about myth versus fact.
“Wunna can’t go in the Hot Pot, hear?” Miss Mo warns, as if Ahkai and I ever go swimming, much less in the Hot Pot. It’s an area off the ocean, a small natural pool at the end of Brandon’s Beach.
“Jo, yuh know that water got healing powers, right?” Miss Mo continues. “That’s why it so hot.”
The water may have healing powers, but it can also be deadly. The Hot Pot is known for its strong rip currents that can drag people out to sea if they’re not careful. I grimace, having a flashback to that dreaded day when a silver dollar almost cost me my life.
“Mother.” Ahkai grits his teeth. “The Hot Pot is located behind an electrical power station. The hot water from the cooling tanks flowing into the sea is responsible for its warm temperature.”
“I had rheumatoid arthritis in my right knee, yuh know. Look!” Miss Mo shouts, pushing a knobbly knee in my face. “One hour in the Hot Pot and all the pain disappear!”
Ahkai closes his eyes and exhales. This is the worst time to talk to Miss Mo but I can’t wait any longer.
“Miss Mo, do you know anything about, uh, the …” I sit down at the kitchen table, turn away from Ahkai, then whisper, “The River Mumma.”
“The River Mumma!” Miss Mo looks like Christmas has come early, and there is an even louder sigh behind me.
I ignore Ahkai. “Yea, uh, her. Does she only live in rivers or what?”
“No, she don’t only live in rivers!” Miss Mo lowers the flame underneath the pots. “You can find she in any water, Jo, but she would be called something else. Like some people does call she Mama Dlo, say she is Papa Bois girlfriend, and the fish are her children.”
I wonder if this Papa Bois knows Mariss is living with my daddy.
“What does she look like?” I ask. Ahkai gives me his dirty side-eye and shakes cat food into Simba’s bowl.
“She ugly, ugly, ugly bad,” Miss Mo says, pursing her lips in distaste. “Three red eyes! Mossy teeth and worms for eyebrows! She covers herself with mud and scrubs her armpits with cow-itch.”
Ahkai carefully drags a chair across the floor, picks up Simba’s food, and leaves the kitchen. I’m pretty sure Miss Mo is describing an alien from a cartoon; I can’t believe she’s my best source of information, and clearly not a reliable one.
I slump down in disappointment and immediately hear Mariss’s voice in my head. Back straight, shoulders back. I can’t help but spring upright in the chair. Oh man, I need to get her out of my life before she takes over my brain.
“Don’t mind he,” says Miss Mo. “I know what I telling you. Mama Dlo does get rid of mean-spirited men who harm the trees and forest animals. But you know what to do if you meet she, though.”
Miss Mo leans forward and whispers, “Take off yuh right shoe and walk backward till you reach home.”
I’m glad Ahkai’s not around to hear this. A pot on the stove overflows and Miss Mo hurries to remove the cover. I use the distraction to escape out the kitchen door.
Miss Mo is nuts. If I hadn’t witnessed Mariss’s spell with my own eyes, her wacky description would make me doubt that creatures like a River Mumma or Mama Dlo exist. But now I’m back to square one, with no idea where to find credible facts. I had put all my hope in Miss Mo.
Though my house is across the street, I feel so lost.
Still, maybe it’s possible that some River Mummas have mossy teeth and I was just fortunate to meet one with good hygiene. I have to do something and it can’t hurt to try Miss Mo’s advice. After checking for incoming vehicles (and Ahkai), I walk across the road backward, with my slipper clenched in my hand. I feel around for the doorknob and back into the hallway.
“Oh, good, you’re up!” Mariss exclaims.
Guess that didn’t work …
Having my back to Mariss seems like a bad idea so I spin around and see her at the bottom of the stairs in her red robe and fluffy white slippers.
Now that I know Mariss isn’t human, she looks dangerous, even in pajamas. I wait until she’s in the kitchen before inching toward the stairs.
“You can help me make pancakes for your daddy before school.”
No way I’m going near her, especially in a room full of knives. Mariss moves around the kitchen with ease, her hands now familiar with the location of all the bowls and measuring cups.
“I was thinking we could try some with almond milk and coconut oil!” She claps her hands in excitement. “Maybe even some chia seeds!”
Mariss’s smile falters when she sees the disgust on my face.
“Maybe we can add chocolate chips?” Mariss, looking hopeful, holds up a bag of the treats. Nope, not even Hershey’s creamy milk chocolate can get me alone in the kitchen with her.
“Oh, good, pancakes for breakfast.” Daddy comes down the stairs, rubbing his temples. “I ain’ sleep good last night and now my ’ead aches,” he groans. “I need some tea.”
He kisses me on the head, and then embraces Mariss. She nuzzles his cheek with her nose, but I’m not swayed by her gentle affection. What does she want with my daddy? She doesn’t belong in my kitchen making pancakes with seeds! I turn away from their gross cuddling and head upstairs.
“Bean.” I look back at Daddy. His head is cocked to the side. “Pancakes.”
“I’m not hungry,” I reply. I can’t miss the disappointment in his eyes before I run upstairs and close my bedroom door. I get ready for school, trying to ignore the smell of melted chocolate and the rumbling in my belly. When I’m sure they’re both upstairs in their room, I sneak back over to Miss Mo’s, hoping she’ll have leftovers from breakfast and maybe remember something useful about mythical sea creatures.
Before I can get onto the veranda, the door bursts open. Ahkai rushes toward me so fast that his glasses fall off his face.
“Simba! Simba! Simba! Simba!” Ahkai cries out. “Simba is missing!”
We search for Simba for an hour, looking in all the breadfruit and mango trees in the area. We put fresh tuna in his food dish to make him come out of hiding, but when we return the fish is st
ill there, untouched. Miss Mo isn’t happy that we “wasted her good tuna” but even she seems concerned that Simba hasn’t been seen since yesterday.
I am convinced that Mariss is responsible for Simba’s disappearance, especially after he attacked her, but I have no proof.
I remember the look of controlled rage in Mariss’s eyes.
“It’s Mariss!” I shout. I look around, and bring my voice to a whisper. “Mariss may be behind all this.”
Ahkai frowns. “I do not understand.”
I tell him everything, pacing back and forth, details of recent events pouring out of me—the standstill cricket ball, the trances and hypnotic singing, and I remind him about how much Mariss disliked Simba.
I have to catch my breath after my rambling testimony.
“So, Mariss is a sea creature who can manipulate cricket balls, perform hypnosis, and has kidnapped my cat.” Ahkai stares at me like he’s waiting for the punch line to my joke. I can’t blame him; my theory sounds even more ridiculous when spoken out loud.
I need to get proof.
“Maybe Simba is just visiting a friend,” Ahkai says, his voice full of misery. “I think I should stay home and wait for him.”
You know it’s bad when Ahkai wants to skip school and miss reading in the library.
Wait—the library! I should be able to find information about sea creatures in one of those books.
“Ahkai, I think we should go to school and make MISSING posters on the computer.”
We head straight to the library after the school bell rings for lunch, and while Ahkai logs onto the computer, I look around for Mrs. Edgecombe, the librarian. She’s nowhere to be seen, or more likely, heard.
Mrs. Edgecombe is the loudest librarian in the world; the students have to ask her to be quiet. She is a heavyset woman with long Jheri curls that always leave the back of her neck wet and shiny. She wears thick black glasses and has a curved back from all the time she spends folded over with books. Mrs. Edgecombe reacts to reading books like regular people react to watching TV soap operas. Every few minutes, she will shout, burst out laughing, or wail while reading the pages.
Ahkai is her favorite student, and she is his favorite teacher. He even speaks to her sometimes. I admit I get a little jealous when I see them sitting together, sharing a book. Ahkai politely waits for Mrs. Edgecombe to finish the page, and she always asks, “Yuh done?” even though he reads much faster than she does.
Since we don’t have a picture of Simba for the poster, we decide to browse the internet to find a tabby that resembles him.
“How about this one?” I ask Ahkai.
“No! Simba is three inches taller than this specimen,” snaps Ahkai. “And this cat’s fur is Naples yellow, not mustard.” He gives me the stink eye.
I sigh. We’ve been here for forty minutes and all we have is:
MISSING CAT
SIMBA
BDS $100,000 REWARD
I tell Ahkai the reward is too high, but he insists Miss Mo would be willing to sell the house. After a few minutes, I convince him otherwise.
MISSING CAT
SIMBA
BDS $100,000 REWARD
BDS $1,000 REWARD
Sigh.
After much more convincing:
MISSING CAT
SIMBA
BDS $100,000 REWARD
BDS $1,000 REWARD
BDS $10 REWARD
Ahkai’s decided to sketch a picture of Simba himself so I take the opportunity to browse the internet for information. I type in “sea creature barbados” but I only get hits about fish and turtles.
There’s still no sign of Mrs. Edgecombe so I wander about the library, looking for a section about sea creatures that heal themselves and hate cats …
A loud cackle erupts from behind a shelf, and I spy Mrs. Edgecombe hiding at the back of the library, sitting on the carpet and huddled in the corner with a book in her lap.
“Mrs. Edgecombe?”
She tightens her lips and furrows her eyebrows as I try to get her attention. “After this chapter! After this chapter!”
“But, ma’am—”
“Shhhh … before they hear you.” She gestures to a line of children at her desk, waiting to check out books.
“Ma’am, are there any sea creatures in Bajan folklore?”
Mrs. Edgecombe’s eyes dart up from the page. “From the sea? Not really, but …” Her bottom lip quivers, like she’s fighting to remain silent, but in the end she can’t resist the urge to tell a story. “There’s the Mami Wata, a powerful water goddess,” she finally replies, her voice just above a whisper and a wild gleam dancing in her eyes.
“The Mami what?”
Mrs. Edgecombe adjusts her glasses and recites information like she’s in a trivia tournament. “River Mumma, Mere de l’eau, Mama Dlo, all these manifestations originate from the Mami Wata in African mythology, and often take on characteristics unique to the region or culture. For instance, in some interpretations they could look like a mermaid, with a bottom half like a fish, but in others, the bottom half could be like a snake.”
I’m glad there’s some truth to Miss Mo’s information, and it seems more valid coming from Mrs. Edgecombe.
“They’re healers—not just of physical pain. They can even cure infertility and emotional suffering.” Mrs. Edgecombe taps on her chest. “They restore that spiritual balance inside. That’s why they’re respected, adored, loved by so many! They take care of those who worship them. A provider of riches!”
I think about our fully paid bills, our new window, new Jalopy, Daddy’s nets full of fish … Mrs. Edgecombe is too engrossed in her storytelling to notice my growing dread.
She cocks her head to the side. “Now that I think ’bout it, a Bajan Mami Wata would be … a kind of Sea Mumma. I wonder what they’d be like. Everyone—even deities—has different personalities.”
Yes, they could like pancakes with seeds and hate bad posture.
Mrs. Edgecombe wags her finger in my face. “And don’t piss them off, hear? Every coin has two sides! Like all powerful creatures, they are as dangerous as they are generous. They could bewitch people, yes? Possess them in their dreams. Bad things happen to people who anger them.”
I struggle to breathe as I remember Daddy’s nightmare where he saw fangs … and Mariss’s rage when she saw Daddy and Miss Alleyne dancing. My body aches for air, but I can’t seem to inhale.
There’s no doubt in my mind that Mariss is a Sea Mumma.
“What do they want from people, ma’am?” I manage to gasp. “Our organs? Our soul?”
“They’re spirits, not demons, Josephine.” Mrs. Edgecombe huffs as if I’ve offended her in some way. “Most of the time people want things from them, except if …” Her voice trails away and Mrs. Edgecombe lowers her eyes to the page, distracted by the text.
“Except if what, ma’am?” I ask, putting my hand over the page.
Mrs. Edgecombe swats me away like I’m a mosquito. “Except if … they choose someone as a mate … but that only happens once … in a lifetime. Now go away, Josephine.”
I start trembling. Not my daddy.
“What happens to the person she chooses as a mate? How do you get rid of a Sea Mumma, ma’am?” I ask quickly. I’m desperate for info, and Mrs. Edgecombe will soon be lost in her book again.
“I dunno, you know. Most books just warn people to stay away.”
“Please, ma’am!” I raise my voice.
Mrs. Edgecombe gets up with another huff and pulls a heavy book from a nearby shelf. The words “The Treasure Chest of African and Caribbean Folklore” shine in gold letters on the cover.
“There may be something in this book, but it’s the only copy. If I let you borrow it, will you leave me alone?”
It takes all my self-control not to snatch the book out of her hands. I need to find out how to get rid of Mariss. Plus, Ahkai is more likely to believe me if I can get information from a printed source.
I wa
it in the line with the other children, and after Mrs. Edgecombe allows me to check out the text, she returns to the corner with her book and pushes her head down into her collar like a turtle.
I flip through the pages. There are blue ink scribbles in the margins, as if someone tried to update the text. Most of the handwriting is unintelligible; in fact, I don’t recognize any of the words. Yet while the pages have yellowed with age, the printed text is still clear.
There’s no table of contents or index, but as I settle to read from the first page, Ahkai ambles over with a stack of papers. He holds up a flyer with Simba’s drawing, trying to hold back tears.
I can’t let him down so I spend the rest of lunchtime with Ahkai, passing around copies of the flyer, and after school Miss Mo drives us all around Fairy Vale, helping us stick them on every wall and pole.
As soon as we get home, I leap out of her car, eager for the first time to read a book. I’m prepared to spend all night reading until I find the information I need.
“Mariss?” Daddy calls from the kitchen.
“It’s me, Daddy.”
Should I tell him that he’s dating a sea spirit? I remember Ahkai’s skeptical face and hide the book in my bag, deciding to wait until I have solid proof.
Daddy is at the table with bills. I haven’t seen him in this position in so long that for a second I think my wish has come true, and we’ve gone back to a time when Mariss wasn’t in our lives, and my only challenge was getting on the cricket team. I throw myself over him, giving him the biggest of hugs, then squeeze onto his chair and reclaim my rightful place on his chest.
“What is organic greens powder?” he asks, bringing me closer. “And why I paying over a ’undred dollars for it? And the electricity and water bills triple! This ain’ make no sense to me.”
“No bite today?” I ask. He has the worried crease in his forehead.
“You not gine believe this, but only one fish. One single fish. I don’t understand it. The other fishermen ain’ had no problems,” he says, shaking his head from side to side. “It was like Joanne had on some kinda fish repellent.”
Josephine Against the Sea Page 9